


Partner Stretches

by Selador



Series: the villain of the story [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Casual Sex, Gladio describes Prompto as small but everyone is small compared to Gladio, M/M, Miscommunication, Porn with Feelings, Running, Size Difference, Standalone, it's the prequel, technically part of the take heart universe but works on its own
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 19:00:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11629872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selador/pseuds/Selador
Summary: Prompto's cute, but he's the Prince's friend. He's off-limits, even if he keeps checking Gladio out while they go on runs together.He doesn't stay off-limits for very long.





	Partner Stretches

**Author's Note:**

> I had this sitting unfinished on my desktop for a few months and finally wrote the rest of it yesterday. This is how Prompto and Gladio get together in the Take Heart universe! Works on its own though. This is mostly porn (but with some feelings).

The kid’s a runner.

Gladio can tell that much when Prompto starts coming in to the Citadel for what they’re calling Crownsguard training. He’s not going to join the Crownsguard, but everyone thought it would be a good idea for him to learn how to protect himself. Well, everyone except for Culus and Stercus, who don’t believe that a common should be granted special privileges even _if_ that commoner is the official best friend of the Crown Prince and this training is life-saving, but Iggy’s probably going to have them ruined by dinner.

Life saving for Noctis, too, if it comes to that, but right now, the Prince is a better fighter than the kid.

Maybe not for long. He’s watching the kid fumble through the drills, but he’s never making the same mistake twice. He’s terrible with swords, daggers, and lances, but someone training him got the idea to put a gun in his hand, and the kid’s _unnerving_ in how unerring his aim is.

And damn, the kid is quick. Takes off like a shot on the obstacle courses.

Gladio doesn’t really know Prompto that well, despite the fact that he’s been friends with Noctis  for the past four years. First it was a conscious decision; there was no telling if they would remain friends, after all. But now, it’s pretty clear Prompto’s around to stay. And not only is he staying, but he’s doing his damnedest to fit into Noctis’ life.

He ought to get to know the kid a little.

So when Prompto’s walking out from the locker room, a bit in a daze from exhaustion, Gladio catches his arm. “Hey, kid, wait a sec.”

He startles at Gladio’s touch with his entire body, but doesn’t flinch back. “Oh, yeah, what’s up?”

“You go running in the mornings, right?”

The kid flushes and looks down. “I mean, yeah, but it’s not a big deal, I only make it to, like five miles, and I can’t really do much more than that, I wouldn’t really call myself a runner—”

“Hey, five miles is nothing to sneeze at,” Gladio says, a little baffled that’s where the kid took that comment. But he’s always been a little twitchy, hasn’t he? “I meant, you wanna join me for a run in the mornings? It’s more fun with company.”

Eyebrows raised, the kid says uncertainly, “Oh, uh, sure? I mean, I probably won’t be able to keep up with you…”

Gladio claps him on the shoulder, ignoring the last statement.

“Great. Your house, 6 o’clock?”

The kid bites his lip, and nods. Gladio briefly thinks it’s cute before giving his shoulder a squeeze, saying he’ll see him tomorrow then, and leaving.

…

Prompto runs five miles every morning, which is pretty impressive anyway, but he runs them fucking _fast_. Gladio’s impressed, and more than a little curious as to why Prompto thought he wouldn’t be able to keep up with him.

But they do the run, chatting a bit. It’s relaxed, fun, and it goes well. Gladio was right about this being a good bonding activity for him and Prompto. He’s feeling a little smug—Noctis won’t be able to complain that they’re not trying to welcome Prompto anymore.

“Well, this is my house,” Prompto says unnecessarily, as they met up here. “Uh,” the kid rubs the back of his neck uncertainly. His eyes flicker up and down Gladio’s body, and he thinks, _Oh?_ “Wanna come in for a cool down?”

That’s not the first time Prompto’s checked him out, is it? Gladio wasn’t paying attention to that while they were running, but… yeah, he’s checking him out and biting his lip. _Huh_. That’s interesting.

Prompto’s cute, but he’s the Prince’s best friend… he’ll have to think about this. “Sure, I could use some water.”

It’s a weekday, but it’s early, so Gladio expected someone to be around in Prompto’s apartment, but it’s empty. “Your folks at work?” he asks.

Prompto looks around. “Yeah, Dad’s a nurse, so he works odd hours.” His mom doesn’t live with them, Gladio’s pretty sure. He thinks he saw that on Prompto’s background report. He wonders why that is but holds his tongue on that.

He brings him to the kitchen, and sets up a couple of glasses, and fills them with orange juice and a little bit of water. “Helps you hydrate,” Prompto explains.

“Thanks,” Gladio says, and he’s totally right about the attraction thing. There’s a heavy weight to the atmosphere of the room. Prompto’s pretty obvious about it too, now that Gladio has noticed it’s a thing—he keeps checking him out and biting his lip.

Now, what to do about it? Kid’s a nervous, twitchy thing. Even if Gladio wants to make a move—and honestly, he does, Prompto’s totally his type, Gladio has a weakness for cute and adorable—he can’t do anything with the Prince’s best friend unless he means it.

So, really, Prompto’s be off-limits. Has to be.

No matter how much Gladio might wish he wasn’t.

…

Despite his best of intentions, Prompto doesn’t stay off-limits for very long.

Or even for two days.

The next morning, Gladio and Prompto meet again for a run and subsequently a cool down in Prompto’s apartment. Again, no one’s home, but Gladio doesn’t need to ask this time.

“Want to do some partner stretches?” Prompto asks abruptly. “I know some good ones for leg muscles, but I, uh,” he fidgets around awkwardly, “usually don’t have anyone to do them with.”

“Sure thing,” Gladio says, even while he thinks, _This is a bad idea_.

Prompto instructs him through the stretches, and Gladio helps him stretch out his ( _wow, he’s limber—!_ ) legs. He’s used to close physical contact though, and keeps it strictly professional. Because Prompto, he reminds himself, is _off-limits_.

Then they switch, and Gladio lies on the floor, and Prompto’s hands are on his legs. Following Prompto’s urging, Gladio lets his left leg lie flat on the floor, and places his right leg into Prompto’s hands.

“Wow, your legs are long,” Prompto says, chuckling a bit nervously, and then stops. There’s that tension again.

“Six foot six, baby,” Gladio says to diffuse the situation. This was _definitely_ a bad idea.

“Y-Yeah, I know,” Prompto says, kneeling on the ground to push Gladio’s leg up slowly, with a hand placed on his inner thigh to do so and just—

— _squeezes_ —

—a little bit. It’s not a lot, Gladio wouldn’t have thought anything of it beyond a natural flexion of the hand if he wasn’t looking at the horrified and guilty expression that crosses Prompto’s face. And there’s a second after that, right before Prompto uses his current breath to apologize, where Gladio completely rescinds everything he determinedly decided up to that point. With a bend of his leg, he hooks it around Prompto’s shoulder, and with one deft motion, pulls him down on top of him.

Prompto makes a yelp of surprise, and his reflexes are good enough to catch himself from falling entirely on top of Gladio, with his hands on other side of his head.

He also looks positively like the very picture of shocked, eyes wide and mouth opened in the ‘oh’ of surprise. Gladio has a moment of doubt ( _was he wrong? did he misread that?_ ) but then Prompto lowers himself down and all doubt is chased away by Prompto’s lips. Gladio’s pleasantly surprised by Prompto’s initiative, given how nervous the kid is most of the time.

Hands run through and lightly pull on his hair, and Gladio helps himself to giving Prompto’s ass a squeeze. He _really_ hopes he can put how limber Prompto is to good use. He _really hopes_ that.

Prompto’s breath hitches as Gladio lets his hands explore that ass, his back, trailing up to his neck and hair to grasp for slightly better leverage in their kisses. For his part, Prompto is definitely into this, pressing hot kisses against his mouth and neck, his hips slowly beginning to grind against Gladio’s own.

“Prompto—Prompto,” Gladios says, breathlessly tilting his head away so he can speak. Prompto instead gracefully starts licking up the side of his neck and his ear, which distracts Gladio for a moment. “Wait—do you want to do this?”

“Yeah,” Prompto mutters against his neck, hands smoothing over Gladio’s arm and chest. Lingering specifically on his arms. Interesting. “I _really_ want to do this.”

“ _Good_ ,” Gladio says, and in the impulse of a moment, lifts his arm to cushion the back of Prompto’s head, and flips the two of them so he’s bearing down onto Prompto’s small and skinny frame. Prompto’s flushed, wide-eyed, and breathing hard as Gladio knocks his knees apart to settle between them. “So how do you want to do this?”

Prompto’s eyes flicker around, and Gladio worries it’s a sign of nervousness ( _should he back off?_ ) when his eyes settle to the side. “Couch?” he asks.

“Couch,” Gladio concurs.

He picks them both off the floor, and worries for a second Prompto will object to being manhandled—but he squeezes his legs tight around Gladio’s waist, and continues to kiss his neck and collarbones, so Gladio eyes the couch.

It’s small. A two-seater. He can’t lie down on it, period.

Instead, he walks over to the arm of the couch, and sits Prompto down on it, so he can keep kissing him and slips his hands under his tank top. He lingers on his wiry abs, but continues of his ultimate goal to get his shirt off. Prompto graciously returns the favor, reaching around to feel up Gladio’s ass before dragging his hands upwards lifting the hem of his shirt as he goes.

Shirts off. Gladio leans further into Prompto, pushing him back on the arm of the couch until it’s only Gladio keeping him from falling back onto the couch. Their bare chests feel good against each other, as they heatedly kiss again.

“Stop—stop for a second,” Prompto says, and Gladio stops immediately, and he hops off his perch from the couch, roughly opens up his abandoned bag on the floor, and pulls out lube and condoms. He hands them to Gladio, and says, “Pants.”

Gladio obliges, pulling off his running shorts, which were only slighty better than nothing for hiding his erection, but still feel so good peeling off of him. His erection springs free, and there’s a moment of silence broken with a low whistle.

Prompto’s staring at his dick. “Yeah, let’s get that in me.”

Gladio had _no idea_ that Noctis’ friend would be this confident. He _likes_ it. And he’s thrilled. And so, so down with that plan.

“Over the arm of the couch?” Gladio suggests as he moves closer to start tugging down Prompto’s running shorts. He’s leaning down, curving around Prompto as he mouths the side of his neck. “Could also fuck you up against the wall,” he murmurs.

Prompto shivers. “Over the arm of the couch,” and he moves over and Gladio follows him with a hand on his back pushing him down over the arm of the couch. He lets out a small groan as he lands, but that might be because Gladio’s right up against his ass, his dick sliding in-between his cheeks.

“Lube,” Prompto gasps. “Condom.”

Gladio leans over, kissing up his back. “Got ‘em right here.” He opens and puts on the condom, and then clips open the lube tube, liberally smearing some on his fingers. Still pressed up flush against Prompto, he tilts a bit just to give himself enough room to get his hand in-between them to start teasing his hole.

Prompto gasps and tense, lifting a bit from where his arms are supporting him on the couch. He jerks when Gladio scrapes teeth down his shoulder blade and slips a finger inside.

He wonders what he’ll have to do to get some noises.

Gladio works his finger, until the tight heat is a little less tight, and adds another. Prompto seems to like his teeth, so he nips and kisses and tongues at the freckles sprinkled across the expanse of his back.

He adds a third and then a fourth, when Prompto begins to make soft moans, that are often cut off and aborted before they even finished. Gladio really wants to take the time to hear more of them, but Prompto demands, “Just _fuck_ me already!” Gladio was almost painfully hard before, but the demand sends jolts of arousal straight to his dick, so he foregoes his plan to tease and complies. Still he says, “You ready to take my cock?”

“You could have been fucking me five minutes ago,” Prompto says, bracing against the cushions of the couch.

So with that sort of demand, Gladio pulls away from his attentions to Prompto’s back, pulling his fingers a bit regretfully out of him. He wipes his fingers off on a nearby tissue, his spare hand fondling Prompto’s ass, hole slick from their preparations. His other hand, when as dry as it’s going to get, attends to the other cheek.

Prompto gives a grunt of impatience, and Gladio marvels at how unexpectedly _demanding_ Prompto is. And also how much he likes it as he lines up and without further warning, sinks deeply in one smooth glide. Gladio closes his eyes, head back in pleasure as he sighs.

And this time, Prompto gives the most delicious moan. It’s soft and quiet, but it doesn’t cut off. Gladio counts that as a win.

He pulls out slowly, hands keeping grip while simultaneously holding Prompto pinned by his hips, inch by inch. When he gets so far that only his tip is left, he pushes in at the same pace.

“Fuck—hurry— _harder_ ,” Prompto gets out into the couch, writhing against his grip.

Gladio likes going slow, though. He likes the control it gives him, over both himself and his partner. More importantly, he likes knowing that he won’t accidentally hurt them, like he _could_ if he goes hard and fast.

“Tell me if it’s too much for you,” he says, as he picks up the pace a bit, and even so, the force of which dislodges Prompto from his elbows on the couch. But he doesn’t say anything, panting hand and fingers curled into the cushions tight, so Gladio lets himself fuck Prompto into the couch.

He wonders, briefly, if Prompto can come from this—normally he’d reach around and stroke him to help him get off, but he can’t do that with the couch. The thought of going down on Prompto, when he’s all worked up and impatient, to get him off flitters through Gladio’s mind, and he thinks, _Yeah, that’s good too_.

Prompto’s a squirmer, and still pretty quiet. Even with his pinned position on the couch, he’s arching his back, gasping, moaning little noises that Gladio wants on recording, and trying his damnedest to move.

Gladio would like to get him on a bed sometime. Prompto’d probably be fun pinned to a bed, his full body under him, instead of a couch.

Gladio fucks into him, picking up speed as pleasurable tension builds in his gut. And to his surprise, Prompto lets out a moan that is almost a shout, and tenses and stills—he _was_ able to come off of Gladio’s dick alone. As Prompto suddenly relaxes and drops limply onto the couch, Gladio thrusts forward and comes himself.

He leans over and down to rest against Prompto’s back for a moment, before pulling away and removing the condom. When he comes back, Prompto’s curled up on the couch—he’s small enough that there’s still a whole cushion for Gladio, who sits down and pulls Prompto against his chest.

Prompto makes a small noise, almost like a question, but he leans into Gladio and stays there.

They sit like that, for a little while, Prompto’s eyes closed and his breathing even while Gladio’s fingers trace the freckles on his leg. _This was pretty nice_ , Gladio thinks, a little surprised by how much fun that was and how much he’s liking Prompto. Up until just a few days ago, the kid as just Noctis’ friend.

Prompto seems to be asleep right now, but maybe they can go get breakfast when he wakes up.

…

Gladio doesn’t get the chance to ask. Prompto gets up after a few minutes, and shows him to the door. “I gotta get to my job,” he says, apologetic. “Sorry. See you tomorrow morning?” And after a short pause. “I don’t work tomorrow.”

That’s about as clear as he can be, so Gladio smiles, “Sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

When tomorrow is today, they go for their run, Prompto invites Gladio in with the bare subterfuge of ‘cooling down,’ and Gladio gets him on the bed like he wanted. He was right—Prompto is fun when he’s pinned down and squirming.

This time, Prompto doesn’t have work, and Gladio only needs to be at the Citadel to train Noct much later that day. He’s getting dressed in Prompto’s room, the words “Hey, wanna go get breakfast?” are just about to leave his lips, when Prompto says from where he’s lying on the bed still, “So, um,” but doesn’t continue.

Gladio looks up, the words he was about to say momentarily stalled. “Yeah?”

Prompto drums his fingers against the bed covers. “We’re going to be casual about this, right?”

Oh. That’s not what Gladio expected. His mouth moves to give him a solid save before he can do anything stupid, so what he says in response is “Right.”

Now that he’s watching him, he can see Prompto visibly relax at that. And it’s a bit—unexpectedly hurtful. Gladio really thought that it would be Prompto who would want a date.

But, apparently not. He wants to keep things casual.

Well, that’s what Gladio wanted at first, wasn’t it? The kid’s too important as the Prince’s friend for a hook-up or one night stand, and his entire demeanor pretty much screams soft and bright things that would be great for a relationship. Gladio wasn’t going to make a move because he couldn’t guarantee that it would be anything meaningful, but now he can make all the moves he wants. Prompto wants casual, and that’s fine.

He can do casual.

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read it already, you can read what happens to Prompto and Gladio in Take Heart, which you can find through the series link :)


End file.
